


take my hand (and we'll go dancing)

by rxpunzels



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Dumb Meetcute, M/M, hashtag anything can happen in a new york minute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23268739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxpunzels/pseuds/rxpunzels
Summary: Eddie analyses risks, he doesn't take them. And boarding a New York tour bus with a total stranger the day before his favourite cousin's wedding seems like the biggest risk of them all.It's dumb and it's reckless and it's definitely going to be something he regrets, but it could also open him up to the idea that the people who say you can fall in love in a day might be onto something.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	take my hand (and we'll go dancing)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a dumb idea. But it was also super fun to write. Expect the same level of complete ridiculousness that you found in the hash brown fic, but the dumbassery levels in this have increased tenfold.

Eddie checks his phone for the fifteenth time, grinding his teeth together when his lock screen remains stubbornly blank, bar the clock which tells him forty minutes have elapsed since he and Patty were due to meet.

He sighs and tips his head back, drumming his fingers irritably against his coffee mug. He’d felt obligated to order a second after the barista cleared away his first cup and then continued to look at him with a mixture of annoyance and pity. She probably thinks he’s been stood up for a date, and he wants to tell her that isn’t the case. Then again, what does he care what she thinks of him? Maybe it would be less embarrassing to get stood up for a date than to admit that he’s currently sat rigidly in a chair and waiting for his second-and-somewhat-removed cousin to have mercy on him and show up.

His relation to Patty is a long-winded and overly complicated thing, so it makes sense for him to simply to refer to her as his cousin. Besides, she’s easily his favourite family member and he’s happy to break down the barriers of ‘which great-aunt’s husband is her mother’s brother’ in favour of clinging to her side at family gatherings. They’re the most similar in age out of all of Eddie’s other relatives and, on the plus side, Eddie’s mother actually approves of her.

“Patty is _just_ the kind of girl you should be spending time with! It’s just such a shame she’s marrying that accountant she found. I don’t know why she wants to waste her future on a man like that,” Sonia often coos. Eddie doesn’t know if the segue into her disapproval of Patty’s love life is directly related to her wishes that Eddie find a similar woman to spend his days with, and he’s definitely too afraid to find out.

It sort of checks out though, that his mom would immediately write off any women with hair shorter than chin-length, athletic women, women with more than their ears pierced, women who’ve definitely campaigned against the government’s archaic laws (although, unbeknownst to her, Patty definitely knows her way around a picket line) and any woman that, quite simply, would take precedence in Eddie’s life over her, rather than his own cousin.

It both frightens and amuses Eddie to think of how his mom would react if she knew he wasn’t interested in women at all.

Before he can focus too much on _that_ particular thought and immediately spiral, his phone dings with a message alert and his knee hits against the underside of the table in his bid to see Patty’s text.

Rubbing sorely at his leg and pointedly ignoring the barista’s glare, Eddie swipes his finger across his phone screen and picks it up.

_Major problem!_ reads Patty’s message. _Bump is being a little shit and deciding they want to grow more now. My dress is too tight! Bev says she can work her magic though. She’s putting in another panel that will stop me from exposing myself as the family harlot, but it’s going to take some time. Raincheck? Love you!_

Eddie’s eyes flutter closed as he tries to keep his annoyance at bay. Realistically, he should have expected something like this. Everyone thinks that Patty is a demure and responsible teacher with zero flappability. And Eddie is happy to help her keep up the charade, despite his own risk-analyst brain constantly over-working itself in a bid to put out her fires.

In reality, Patty is a hare-brained, flaky procrastinator. She’s still an awesome teacher but her clothes are constantly covered in the result of too many hours finger painting with her kids and there’s been more than one occasion when she’s waltzed in late to a family dinner, the rest of their relatives understandably humming their sympathies about the stress of her job, while Eddie’s had to whisk her away to the bathroom to pick popcorn out of her hair because he knows she actually ran out of time marathoning _The X-Files_ with her fiancé, Stan.

Well, it’s either that or they got sidetracked engaging in the same activity that left her piling on an extra few pounds in the run-up to her wedding. Eddie is the only relative who’s privy to the information, and he’s definitely loyal enough to keep it that way.

But _surely_ making sure your wedding dress fits after finding out you’re pregnant isn’t something that should be left to the day before the actual event itself, right?

It’s all very Patty though so he can’t be too mad, and at least he’s not Bev right now. Quickly, he types out a reply reassuring her that it’s fine, they don’t have to meet up today, and he’ll see her tomorrow anyway.

His chair scraps against the floor as he pushes it back and stands. He orders another coffee for the road from the barista who just looks _smug_ now that she’s presumably decided he’s been stood up for a date. He doesn’t have the energy to correct her and lets her think what she wants as she gets his black Americano ready.

He’s busy tapping away at his phone, fending off Bev’s texts that imply she’s about to tear her hair out with these dress alterations, when a coffee cup slides across the counter towards him. Absently, he reaches out to lift it and takes a drink.

Sugary, caramel sweetness floods his tastebuds and he immediately screws his face up. “What the th’fuck?” he manages, doing his best not to spill the coffee out his mouth while stubbornly refusing to swallow it.

Eventually, he has no choice but to choke it back and scowl at the barista.

“This isn’t what I ordered.” The barista stares at him, the expression on her face making it clear that she is absolutely done with his shit. She gives him a brief nod.

“I know,” she agrees.

Eddie stares. “So why did you give me it?”

“I didn’t. This is your coffee.” She taps a shiny black fingernail against another coffee cup sitting on the counter.

“So whose coffee is _this_?” Eddie asks snappily, despite it becoming steadily clearer that the barista ( _Kate_ , if her black-markered nametag is anything to go by) isn’t the one at fault here.

“It’s mine!” comes a voice behind Eddie.

He whirls around, cup still in hand, and finds a tall, lanky man with thick-rimmed glasses grinning at him like he’s just won the lottery.

“What?” is all Eddie manages.

Crooked front teeth bite into a soft bottom lip and it takes Eddie a hot minute to realise this dude is trying not to laugh at him. Given his current mood, he doesn’t take too kindly to that and immediately squares his shoulders.

“That’s my cup!” the guy says, still grinning broadly. “You’re drinking my coffee.”

“This isn’t coffee, it’s a dentist’s fucking nightmare,” Eddie sharply points out. It does nothing to make the smile on the stranger’s face disappear.

“I’ll let my dad know,” is the inexplicable reply he receives.

Eddie tilts his head to the side, screwing up his face. “Wait, did you watch me drink it?”

“Yeah.”

“You knew it was your coffee, and you watched me drink it?”

“Uh huh.”

“You just _let_ me take your cup and drink your coffee?”

“Yep.” He loudly pops the ‘p’.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Alphabetically or in order of annoyance?” the man chirps, and Eddie has had enough.

“Okay, jeeze, well. _Sorry_. But that’s also on you if you let me have it. I don’t think I’m like, morally obligated to buy you a new one when you knew fine well what the fuck was happening in front of you.”

The man holds his hands up, shoulders hunching, like he’s trying to ward off Eddie’s anger.

“Fine by me! I didn’t want you to get me a new one. Give it here.” And he plucks the coffee cup from Eddie’s hand.

“Dude!” Eddie gapes. He watches in horror as the man lifts the cup and takes a swig, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat. “I meant _you_ should buy _yourself_ a new one. Not drink that! You don’t know where the fuck my mouth has been.”

“Has it been near anyone’s ass lately?” 

Eddie’s knees nearly buckle. “ _What?_ ”

The guy silently raises his eyebrows.

“No!” Eddie is fully aware that his neck is definitely going that red, splotchy way it does whenever he’s embarrassed or angry. He’s not sure which one he is right now, but he can feel the prickly heat on his skin.

“Huh.” The guy shrugs. “Guess I’ve had a better day than you then.”

Oh, that’s it. Eddie has fucking had it. He turns around, grabs his coffee cup and says sweet fuck all to the ever-pleasant Kate watching this exchange and shoulders by the man.

Once he’s stepped back out into the busy New York street, he begins marching down the sidewalk. He looks like a man on a mission and his jaw must be set hard enough for the flyer-guys handing out leaflets for city bus tours not to mistake him for a tourist or even chance their luck to promote their business.

“Hey! Hey, man, wait up! You forgot this!” A voice reaches his ears and he stops dead in his tracks. Someone collides into him from the back, a briefcase jamming itself painfully into the back of his knees and his quiet ‘oof’ of pain is suffocated by the raised voice of a business man with his phone pressed against his ear.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole!” He glares at Eddie as he cuts by, directing his last insult into the mouthpiece of his cell phone. “Fucking tourists, they’re everywhere.”

“I’m not a tourist!” Eddie yells, but the suited douchebag is already gone, and he suddenly has another pain in the ass to contend with.

“Those little legs sure do carry you far.” The coffee shop guy arrives at his side, panting and breathless. Eddie glares up at him.

“What do you want? This is my coffee this time, I checked,” he says.

“Yeah, but you forgot your phone.” The guy holds out Eddie’s iPhone and wiggles it.

“Oh.” Eddie lifts his gaze up to the taller man who’s still beaming like he’s having the best day ever. “Thanks.”

To his credit, he sounds as sincere as he wants to be. It’s followed by a twinge of embarrassment and an apology is bubbling on the tip of his tongue, born from his behaviour towards this guy back at the coffee shop. But before he can say anything, he’s beaten to the punch.

“It started vibrating and I didn’t wanna like, pick it up. But you have two missed calls from someone called Patty and I figured you’d be in big trouble with the missus if you just ignored her – oh, hello.” A hand is thrust between them by a guy dressed in a bright red anorak. He’s clutching onto a flyer for one of the bus tours and Eddie grits his teeth.

“Don’t engage,” he cautions Coffee Guy.

“What’s this for?” The man takes the flyer, failing to heed Eddie’s warning. Then red-jacket guy launches into his usual spiel about bus tours and Eddie wants to just walk away and leave them to it because it’s not his fault Coffee Guy fell for such a cheap trick, but his phone is still being held hostage.

He zones out halfway through, angrily chugging his coffee and mentally cursing Patty out for inadvertently landing him in this situation. Then suddenly, there’s an exchange of money and the two men in front of him are shaking hands like they just closed on a business deal.

“You could have just ignored him, you know,” Eddie says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Coffee Guy tilts his head to the side and watches him. Eddie feels like he’s being scrutinised.

“He was talking to me.”

A sharp burst of air flies out of Eddie’s nostrils in one frustrated swoop. “You didn’t have to _acknowledge_ him. He’s just some guy on the street luring people into a stupid tourist trap.”

His own words don’t sound bad to him until Coffee Guy twists his mouth to the side with a small frown. “Just some guy on the street? He’s just trying to do his job, man. It can’t be easy when so many people walk by and ignore him.”

Eddie did not leave the warm confines of his apartment today to be guilt-tripped, but regret quickly sinks in when he realises that, hey, maybe this guy has a point. He’s lost count of the amount of times he’s snapped at one of the flyer-guys while he made his way to his cushy office job. But pride won’t let him say that out loud.

“You don’t see any of the important things in New York on one of those stupid bus tours,” he settles on instead.

“You’ve been on one?” Coffee Guy asks.

“No.”

“Good thing we’ve got one booked in an hour then!”

Eddie nearly spills his coffee over his own shoes. “I’m sorry, what?”

Coffee Guy shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back onto his heels. “I booked us tickets.”

“You got a ticket for yourself!”

“Yeah, and you.”

_Oh, sweet Jesus, he’s a fucking madman,_ Eddie thinks to himself and takes a careful step back. Is his phone even worth this conversation? He has all his important shit backed up on the iCloud but that doesn’t mean he wants to be without a cell. He doesn’t have a landline and everything he needs in the immediate future is on that little device still clutched in the oversized hands of a man who Eddie has presumed is a certified lunatic.

“I don’t even know you,” Eddie tries, even though he’s not sure he should be attempting to reason with this man.

“I’m Richie.” _Richie_ sticks his hand out for Eddie to shake. Eddie stares at it like it’s holding a vial with a skull and crossbones on it.

“In normal society, you shake it and tell me your name.”

Still looking incredulous, Eddie manages to find his voice. “What the fuck is happening right now?”

Richie laughs. “Honestly? I saw you back in the coffee shop. You looked like you were having the day from hell and then when you went to drink my coffee I was like, ‘hey, perfect conversation starter!’ Fully didn’t expect you to try and take my head off my shoulders though, man. But then you left your phone, I followed you, and talked to my good friend, Sam, over there.” He lifts a hand to wave at the man in the red jacket standing on the sidewalk who enthusiastically waves back. “And figured I could make his day _and_ yours. You’ve never been on one of these tours, you said so yourself. So how do you know they’re bad? They _could_ be really fun.”

“I’m a stranger,” Eddie says bluntly.

“So were all of my friends at one point,” Richie says and Eddie kind of wants to kick him for being so reasonable about a suggestion that otherwise sounds completely batshit.

“I’m not going on that tour with you,” Eddie says. “You could be a serial killer for all I know.”

“I’m not, Scout’s honor,” Richie swears. He solemnly raises his hands in a three-fingered salute.

“You could be crazy.”

“And I could threaten to withhold your phone until you agree,” Richie fires back. “I mean, if I held it up really high you wouldn’t be able to reach it.”

Ignoring the quip about his height, Eddie clenches his fists. “You’d keep my phone?”

Richie shakes his head. “Nah. I was just playing my last card.”

He holds the phone out to Eddie who quickly takes it. “Thanks.”

Richie shrugs it off with a dismissive wave of his hand and looking at him, someone could think that he might seem a little… disappointed about Eddie’s refusal to board a bus with him and look at the same sights he takes for granted every day. Do people really care about the Empire State Building that much?

“I’m sorry, I just can’t justify getting on a bus with a total stranger,” Eddie says. His attempt at sounding regretful is mildly successful.

Richie simply gives him a small smile. “Hey. It’s all good, man. I’m pretty sure one of these other sad fuckers will take me up on the offer.” He spins his finger around, gesturing to the crowded street at large.

“You sure about that? People in New York aren’t friendly. They don’t take kindly to – are you _fucking_ kidding me?” Eddie yells. In the split second it had taken Eddie to mimic Richie’s hand movement, a passer-by takes it upon themselves to crash into him from the side, upending the contents of his coffee cup all over his front. Without so much as an apology, the woman, distracted by her Bluetooth earpiece, continues to keep walking. Such is New York.

“Holy shit, is it hot?” Richie asks as Eddie continues to rant and rave.

It takes longer than Eddie is proud of to calm down, but when Richie offers to buy him some new clothes since he’s convinced the whole misdemeanour is his fault, Eddie turns his glare on him.

“And where the fuck are you going to get me clothes? This isn’t Fifth Avenue.” He knows that’s not the only place to get clothes in New York, but this particular street solidly consists of cafes, donut joints and tacky tourist shops.

Which is steadily looking like his only option. He refuses to get on the subway smelling like the inside of his mouth during his college finals. Caffeine had turned into a food group of its own back then and the way the liquid is stickily attaching itself to his shirt is throwing him back to that unpleasant time. He peels the sodden piece of clothing away from his chest and grimaces.

“Okay, fine,” he says to Richie.

Ten minutes later, Eddie emerges from the store’s changing room wearing an obnoxiously bright ‘I Heart NY’ shirt. Richie is standing with his arms crossed and lets out a loud cackle when he sees him.

“Okay. Just hear me out, Mr I’m-Not-A-Tourist,” he says. “But you can’t say you’re not dressed for that bus now.”

All Eddie can do is close his eyes and count to ten.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been to New York before and have stories to tell. As always, you can find me on twitter @rxpunzelss so you can yell at me about how dumb this is!


End file.
